


Threads Untangle

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-24
Updated: 2006-03-24
Packaged: 2019-02-02 02:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Buddies at the end of a bad day.





	Threads Untangle

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers for Threads (season 8), language, slash; not beta'd.  


* * *

"Four months of dating"

"Yep."

"Two weeks waiting for an answer to the big question."

I take a swig from my beer bottle. "Yep."

"Three months of wedding plans, invitations, schedule changes."

"Yep."

"And after all that, she leaves you at the altar."

I take yet another big gulp of the alcoholic beverage and wave at the bartender for another bottle. "Yep." 

My buddy--he's not really a friend--stares at his own cup of scotch for a few minutes while my new beer arrives. "Ouch."

"Ouch? That's all you have to say? Ouch?" I glare at my reflection, at the limp strands that once made up a bow tie, the crumpled shirt, the defeated slump. The fact that I can still make out those details tells me I'm not drunk enough. 

"What do you want me to say?"

He's got a point there. What do you tell a buddy when their bride dumps them right as the priest is asking for her vow? I down most of the liquid in one gulp. "I can't believe she left me."

"Me either."

"I can't believe she fucking left me for O'Neill." 

My buddy takes a quick drink and sets his glass down. "Me either."

"She doesn't know he's doing you, does she. Doesn't know she doesn't stand a fuckin' chance." I need something stronger than beer, something strong enough to burn my throat and make me forget this day...this year ever happened.

"She doesn't, and she can't." He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them. "I really thought she was over him, that she was happy with you."

"You and me both. She played us like fools. Fuckin' fools." 

My buddy stays silent for a bit, just staring at...something. Normally he wears glasses, but today, because she asked, he wore his contacts. "Any chance you and she will reconcile, now that she knows it's impossible?"

I snort. "She'd just be settling. I'd be a substitute. She'd be with me, but she'd want him. She'd think about him. She'd probably even call out his name when we-"

"So what will you do?"

Another good question. He has a lot of them, my buddy. I'm taking some glee in the fact that her heart's being broken as we drown our sorrows at this hole-in-the-wall. It's shallow and selfish, but godamnit, I LOVED her! And this entire time she's been pinning after that...that...General! 

He's waving his glass around a bit. Oh, right. He asked me a question. "A friend of mine in Seattle said there was an opening in the force up there."

"If that's what you want."

"What I want is her." And I'll never have her. Hell, I never had her. 

My buddy shrugs his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

Sorry. Yeah, I've been hearing that all day. That's why I'm here. I don' t want to hear how sorry everyone is. I'm sick of people saying they're sorry. I don't want their pity. "I think I preferred ouch."

He chuckles, just briefly, and sits up. "I need to get going. Jack's sent her away by now. You gonna be okay, Pete? Do you need me to call you a cab?"

I shake my head and finish my, what...fifth bottle of beer? Sixth? Who the fuck 's counting. "I think I'm just gonna hide here for a bit." 

He pats my back, a drinking buddy's version of a hug. "If you need anything, give me a call."

"Take care, Daniel." And with that, he leaves, and I'm left alone. All alone again. I order another bottle of beer. A few more and maybe, just maybe, I' ll forget all about Samantha Carter.


End file.
